She hugged me again and pressed her tits against my chest. I was now down to five minutes. “How are you?” she asked. “I’m good thank you Mrs...Malcolm,” I managed to answer, hoping that I didn’t sound like a slobbering idiot. “What d'you need help with?” “There are a couple of light-bulbs that need fixing, and then I was wondering if you could fix the bathroom cabinet?” she asked. “Doug would normally do it, but he’s got a bad back.” “I’d be glad to help,” I said. I went into the house and. I guess my subconsciousnes knew it all along, but only now did it allow the thought to enter my consciousness.Mistress and slave. Ok. So far, so bad. I don't want to be anybody's slave.The question is, can I do something about it? No, not likely. So far, even worse.Next question: Is there a way to keep the unpleasant moments to a minimum? Yup. Obedience, obedience, obedience.Next: Can I do something about it to appease her or even make it easier for me, aside from pure obedience? Maybe. Maybe. More

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